The Transcendent Triple Whopper Tale

The evening started with one of those conversations. You know the kind. It's dinner time and you ask, what's for dinner? Your wife then asks what's for dinner? It becomes clear that there is no plan for dinner. If you've been following along, you know that if you fail to plan, you plan to fail. Well, there was only one plan left. I whipped out the Burger King coupon book, and looked straight at the infamous Triple Whopper coupon. We were hungry, and it was time for the King to deliver.

Since my previous review for Burger King went well, I figured it was time for a return visit. You know how it is for restaurant reviews, one time the restaurant is running a top-notch show and the next time it's almost like you would have been better off to stay at home.

My wife and daughter waited at home, while I went to get the goods. Being that this was going to be a truly transcendent experience I popped in the latest Sigur Ros CD and headed down the road. It was truly a transcendent experience, and I was experienceing it in it's full trancendenticity.

It was a beautiful sight: an empty drive-thru. I zoom-zoom zoomed into the parking lot and up to the bright-blue ordering totem / speaker/ thingamajiggy. Sure enough I was greeted with a familiar line of- what would you like? You won't get that at any four-star restaurant (thank you very much). The odd thing was that the Burger King worker had some sort of odd accent. After a few minutes of working out details, like if the cheese was free on the second Triple Whopper (which it was), I pulled forward.

When I arrived at the ordering window, it turned out to be sort of a strange half-Australian half-redneck accent. I wasn't sure if she had recently escaped from the Outback Steakhouse across the street. I figured it would be bad karma to ask, and plus there's that golden rule about Whoppers. "Eat your Whopper while it's hot and fresh," is what momma always told me. After I was handed my bags of food, I was told, "have a nice evening sir". Now let me say that only in America can you order TWO Triple Whoppers with cheese and be called sir. Only in America.

I headed back for home, and when I got out of the car I noticed something was wrong. The Triple Whopper bag was a little light. The sinking feeling hit me, as I looked inside and saw that there was only one Triple Whopper. Damn. Foiled by The King. I went inside and explained the situation. Even though I had enough food in the bag to feed a family of ten in Ethiopia, my wife offered to drive back and get the missing Triple Whopper. Let me say that this is what true love is about. Going back for the second Triple Whopper.

I dived into my Whopper, no my Triple Whopper with reckless abandon. This was one of those times where no burger was going to get in my way. I finished it before my wife even got back with the second one. She ate about half, and pushed it towards me. Yep, one and half Triple Whoppers. It was Survivor Thursday, so I figured I would treat this as an immunity challenge and went for it.

An hour later I awoke after passing out and dreaming of waking up in a foreign land where they had no clue what Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream was. It was truly a weird, but transcendent experience. Don't do this at home kids.

B² said:
monkeyinabox said:
B² said:
rico suave said: